


For Now She Watches (Arianna's Interlude)

by ExploretheEcccentricities



Series: Or So They Thought [5]
Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: A kind of interlude, Abuse, Arranged Marriage (Mention), But starring many other characters and clarification on many other things, Chapters might change, F/M, Gen, Grief, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injustice, Just generally bad situations, Loneliness, Motherhood, Pain, Perspectives might change, Possibly graphic content, Pregnancy, Providing crucial insight and world building and a transition from the last, Self-Hatred, Toxicity, Trauma, but it's finally here, mother-daughter, struggling relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28618059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExploretheEcccentricities/pseuds/ExploretheEcccentricities
Summary: It starts with the little onesBut the further they fallThe faster they come.And the more they fearThe louder they will jeerUntil you cut off your earsTo see where they’ve goneNot what they’ve becomeBut then you’re felled by one.(IMPORTANT: The story is not dead! Read author's note. The first chapter is a Table of Contents with a Prologue!
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel, Queen Arianna of Corona & Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider, Queen Arianna of Corona & King Frederic of Corona (Disney), Queen Arianna of Corona & Rapunzel (Disney), Queen Arianna of Corona & Varian (Disney), Quirin & Varian (Disney), Quirin/Varian's Mother (Disney)
Series: Or So They Thought [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639714
Comments: 21
Kudos: 35





	1. Table of Contents and Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so, so sorry this took so long, guys! Life has been incredibly difficult, but I won't give up on this story. I can't promise a regular update schedule, but I *can* promise that I won't be dropping this until it is good and finished! 
> 
> Without further ado, here comes the next installment: due to be 6 relatively short (by that I mean NOT 50,000 words long, lol) but much needed chapters, in Arianna's perspective. This interlude is also needed for context on the story and much-delayed world building-insights on the Coronans justice system, Frederic and Arianna as rulers, and will bring to light a few other characters, including Captain, Lady Caine, Cassandra, Eugene, Rapunzel, Varian, and Quirin. It will (eventually) be providing insights into what's already happened (in between or before the previous works), what has yet to happen, AND what has been going on ever since where we last left off.
> 
> This is the table of contents, and hopefully I'm probably putting up the next chapters by next week, just after exams finish. Just to remind myself and anyone else that this story is far from over! 
> 
> At that time (or maybe the week after), I will also hopefully be putting up another work in the series after this that brings us back to Varian's situation right after the events of the last work (And Now They Must) because goodness knows the kid needs it. That will be updated alongside this one. So no one will have to wait to learn about what happened to the boy any longer!
> 
> Maybe later in the story, the organization/titles of the chapters might change...but I don't think it's likely. There might also be a bonus chapter at the end. 
> 
> This was written in Arianna's perspective because to capture a clear and/or comprehensive understanding of what led to everything being the way it is, only Arianna and Frederic are actual witnesses, being the two leaders of Corona and the seemingly infallible upper forces behind much of it (and out of the two, Arianna is the reliable witness.). This also sets up for Arianna's important role later in the story. And also...because though this may be primarily "Varian's story", it's a story that encompasses and includes other characters whose struggles, problems, dreams, failures, pains, happinesses and general lives intertwine with Varian's.
> 
> That beings said, this won't detract from Varian's "central" role in the story.
> 
> (UPDATE: THERE IS A PROLOGUE NOW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (UPDATED FIRST CHAPTER: Now contains a prologue with the table of contents!)

Chapter 1: Table of Contents WITH Prologue now!

Chapter 2: Mutterseelenallein 

-Summary: A look into Arianna and Frederic when Rapunzel was born...and kidnapped

Chapter 3: Les Dorées (Golden Ones)

-Summary: Rather than returning with Rapunzel, the Captain of Corona comes home with...someone else. A brief look into the palace lives of Cassandra...and later Eugene.

Chapter 4: Ombres et Fumée (Shadows and Smoke)

-Summary: The last criminal-from the first week of crackdown on crime-walks into Frederic's court. The case sets a precedent for many more to come.

Chapter 5: Plus Dans La Vie (More in Life)

-Summary: Arianna has a few talks with Varian; at different stages of his life...and with a different person in his life.

Chapter 6: Nulle Part Ailleurs (Nowhere Else)

-Summary: In the present day, Arianna comes across something-or rather, someone-that will change the way things have been and will be.

...

_Varian stands at the entrance, facing the king._

Arianna stands at the entrance, facing the king.

_His legs were never meant to walk so fast. They were not set to carry his sagging weight even as his flesh hung from his malnourished form and the frame of his heavy bones. Stumbling, set to continue this pattern that would never be understood, not even by himself. His steps were just…steps. Pointed, cautious, quick steps, meant to be silenced and swallowed by the looming empty chasm crated by the arch above the courtroom._

Her legs were never meant to dance.

They were not set to a routine, not synchronized to a rhythmic beat that could be followed or understood or repeated. Their steps were just…steps. Pointed, cautious, quick steps, not meant to be studied or silenced.

_His arms, secured by the hold of two towering soldiers flanking his sides as he steps forward, one by one, so jarring and different to his rhythm, a discordant yet resonant beat pulsating with every heavy echo against the pristine marble floor._

Her arms, secured, holding onto the one who had promised to learn her rhythm, watch her beats, sway along with the melody droning in her ears and weaving wistfully into the prim atmosphere, and she quietly goes along. The harmonious symphonies bouncing off of the walls of the throne room.

_Varian watches them as they watch him - no, they had not always watched him, they had no seen him until now, hunkered and humble before their feet, with a simmering glare blustering behind his tightened face._

_However much he had discovered, he had heard the king’s silence, witnessed a king be a tyrant._

She watches Frederic as he watches her - no, she had not always watched him, but she had seen of him what she could, for the moments they had spent together.

However little she had known, she would hear a king speak, witness a king become a tyrant.

_He can no longer move his arms about as he did before. They are locked, in grey and cold metal, as he clasps his palms together, squeezes them tightly as he intakes a shuddering breath._

She can no longer move her arms about as she did before. They are locked in gold and warm skin, as she clasps her palms with Frederic’s, squeezes them tightly.

His eyes, blue, astute and vivid and intuitive as they find her own, strangely clashing with the blind of the bright room.

_His eyes, blue, accusing and vivid and yet strangely interwoven with the dreary fade of the dimmed room._

A stiff, composed advisor stands by the side, silent as needed, dutiful as expected as he holds up and unravels the scroll before him, looking past it as he knows the lines by heart.

“Their Majesties Presiding…King Frederic of Corona and Queen Arianna of Corona!”

**In the distant future, a few other pairs of feet join the dance, and a few others their doom.**

_Varian scowls, lifting his eyes as the judgment begins._

Arianna squints, lifting her eyes as the recount begins.


	2. Mutterseelenallein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Arianna and Frederic when Rapunzel was born-and when she was kidnapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Hopefully my updates won't be so spaced out. Sorry for the wait! <3

They were smiling ones. He- the man, the king, the new husband, and she-the woman, the queen, the wife. They were, even when they needed to search for something to smile about...and smile for.

From where she watches, he moves swiftly and carefully across the courtyard, both hands cradling her own, a foreign yet seemingly gentle weight, always smiling.

“Eggs.” She repeats curiously, straining to keep her tone as gentle and non-judgmental as possible when they had parked right underneath the largest tree they could find, setting the basket down. She might not be going many places with her new husband if she did not at least attempt to make this work.

He nods, seeming just as uncertain and cautious as she when he runs his fingers smoothly over the faint crinkles in his robe, humming in interest and agreement. “Eggs.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to explain that one to me.” Arianna offers, ensuring she honeyed it with a mildly colored apologetic tone. She did not want to seem too argumentative…she didn’t know how he would react.

Frederic shrugs, his broad shoulders stiffening nonetheless at the implicit pressure, as his brows knit together, in an attempt to phrase what was in his mind. “I would argue them just as fascinating as real birds. They…they are still real birds, you know? Just…undeveloped. Waiting to grow.”

A knot in her chest loosens with relief when his eyes flicker to her in question, as though expecting her to respond, silently asking for her to explain. Mildly unsettled yet intrigued and encouraged all the same, Arianna nods, pondering as her eyes catch a few birds fluttering, chirping in the breeze as the leaves rustle noisily in the trees. “I do think…the fact that they _would_ be real birds is interesting. That they’ll…change, and grow, into something seemingly new and…completely different from what they look like.” Invested in this new fixation, Arianna’s gaze wanders from the free bird to the egg safely enclosed within Frederic’s palms. “To think that that…could become…” She doesn’t finish, having expected Frederic’s eyes to follow hers to the freely flying birds.

However, the man’s eyes remain fixed on the egg, a soft and comfortable smile on his lips. “Yes…” he agrees fondly, almost wistfully. “Change is a part of nature, but it doesn’t…make you something new.”

Arianna’s eyes squint, and she quietly sets her cup aside, placing one hand gently on her stomach as she leans back against the tree. She thinks…she can be comfortable around him. For now. “I like to think change is the closest we can get to becoming better than what we are, whether it makes us entirely new beings or not.”

Frederic shrugs, humming in thought. “I don’t know if I’d call it better. It just grows as it’s supposed to. There’s different kinds of eggs, depending on the kind of bird they come from but…in the end, they all will hatch. They all will grow. Everything is just…perfectly played out for them. Everything that they’re going to be, look like, be capable of doing-all from before they’re even born.”

“Well, sure.” Arianna concedes, leafing through their basket and retreating her hand when she found nothing left. “But…you still don’t know that. You can maybe tell what they’ll look like, or what they’re meant to do, because of where they came from or the type of bird they were born from. But you can’t…control what they’re going to be. They’re going to grow if they’re lucky enough to live, but you don’t know if they will live, and if so then for how long? You don’t know what will become of them the moment they leave the safe shell of the egg.”

Frederic stares down at the egg. “Well, until the inevitable happens, I can do all I must right now, can’t I? To protect the egg or the bird inside it until it has to fend for itself. To keep the egg warm and comfortable and…safe.” He stares down at the egg fondly, and then up at her. “Right?”

Arianna looks at him, unsure of whether to agree or to argue further. She looks down at the egg then, unable to fight the small smile gracing her lips before leaning forward.

Despite being enclosed within his arms, Arianna quietly watches the bird in the nest above him flutter away…and feels the first kick inside her, alone.

…

Arianna slowly walks, alone as she watches the occasional doctor or nurse or family member come by with their advice and instructions and empty encouragements.

She had never really known what it was like, to have such attention. She hadn’t been one for attention to be honest. She was used to it-used to the swift and peaceful silence of the hallways as she treaded by unnoticed and giggled to herself at the portraits in the grand room, sipped tea in the largely empty courtyard….all alone. With a good book, yes, but all alone still. Public life was not exactly meant for her…but she had agreed to this, hadn’t she? These were roles that needed to be fulfilled, traditions that needed to be upheld, children that needed to be delivered so that they could carry the future of the kingdom-

And yet, she has never felt so… _unbearably_ alone. Detached from her former hobbies and interests as “horseback riding may jostle the child” and “you can see all this from the palace gallery now, can’t you dear?” Unable to participate in the activities she loved with her sister Willow (who had eventually stopped visiting, when she learned that she too would be subjected to more of their parents’ pressure to settle down as a consequence, but that was a matter for another day). Entire days, filled to the brim with more and more people-faces she barely knew or who otherwise respectfully ignored her- suddenly invested in every minute of her life now that they knew…what she was doing. _Who_ she was carrying.

“Keeping this child healthy and delivering it safely is of utmost importance. This is the future of Corona we’re talking about, after all.”

“Ginger and peppermint. I was told…or was it ginger and spearmint? Either mixture will be good with some nice tea in the evenings. And don’t you forget the saucers-!”

“Do you think it will be a prince or a princess? I’m thinking purple for both, to be honest, but if you don’t like that then we can always shoot for yellow.”

It did not help that every passing day since she had begun showing became more painful, wearing slowly at her patience and her body.

“Are you certain you cannot spend the evening today?” She finds herself asking, for what seems like the umpteenth time. The news had not come lightly for Frederic either-ever since his father’s passing, the new king had been swamped to the nose with assignments, occasions and duties that needed to be tended to.

Frederic stands in front of her, visibly dismayed as he sighs, mirroring her own disappointment. “I’m sorry, dear. I wish I could.”

Arianna stifles her incoming sigh of disappointment, straining her smile. For however much she supposed she did…love…her husband, Arianna could not deny that there would always be that small divide between them, that quiet and barely noticeable inability to understand each other as much as she would have liked, the…uncrossable, invisible line between that had somehow, subtly been drawn by a being or event she had not been aware of, one that did not really keep them apart in any way but one she felt she could never ignore, with how it throbbed and pulsed every moment she tried treading on topics of conversation that Frederic either did not understand or did not like to speak much of to begin with.

And yet…however much she had admittedly liked her husband more before the pressures of palace life had begun taking their toll, Arianna could safely say she would much rather spend the evening with him now than…the other range of appointments she had booked for the end of the day.

Frederic was not… _relatable_ , no. But he was kind, and gentle, and fascinating in his own right. He was…far more fascinating, at least, than the other bachelors she had been presented with. Frederic… _tried_. He tried looking at her in the way she quietly wanted him to, he tried accepting and returning her efforts to make…something, of this arranged marriage, for all of their doubts and complaints aside. Frederic tried to support her interests, be it the small chocolate truffles he would surreptitiously sneak to her during dinner as her parents and mother-in-law droned on and on about her diet, or the half-hearted encouragements that she could resume horse-back riding as soon as she was able, when she had been ranting about it angrily in their room after having been discouraged by the doctor.

As she watches Frederic fumble with his cloak, the cape drooping ineffectively on what would look to anyone else like an otherwise intimidating figure, Arianna fondly remembers that with a smile, recalling his bewildered face as she had torn up her napkins out of frustration and slammed her book against her hair dresser as soon as they had been able to retreat back into their chambers, and then his uncertain yet knowing look when he had held her shoulders.

With Frederic…she did not need to care, for undying attention or validation or constant exchanges of open affection. She did not need to care for full, unconditional acceptance or understanding. She did not need to care for advice, for instructions, for approval. Just sitting there with him…watching him watch _her_ …talking on and on and assuming he was both listening and understanding…that was more than enough, some days. To feel heard in the drowning sea of voices that suddenly threatened to consume her, grappling between the superficial and real, surpassing her own deep-seated worries that this was all temporary and none of this was truly for her, but their daughter…all of it need not be worried about, today. Not when…not if she was with him, for but a moment.

Perhaps…perhaps not needing to care was the only thing that did keep her sane here, with Frederic’s attempts at company and her own attempts to hold this new relationship. Perhaps the familiarity of this, coupled with the fact that she knew she was being _listened to_ , to some extent, and how she was allowed to be comfortable with this aspect of her new life…that was what made the larger, longer moments of loneliness remotely more bearable.

That, and she need not be so alone, soon enough.

Pointedly, her hand reaches its destination, a gentle pressure at the center of her stomach. By next month, hopefully.

Frederic catches her gaze and gives her a sympathetic glance, clasping her free hand tightly within his own. “I promise I’ll try tomorrow, though. Unless..you know…something absolutely world-changing comes up.” He chuckles lightheartedly, partially in the hope to cheer her up.

Arianna smiles shakily, blinking back sudden tears of unfounded disappointment. She wasn’t…wasn’t this emotional, usually. “Yes, of course dear.” She manages to agree softly, dutifully, despite how sour it tastes dripping off her tongue.

Frederic notices, and a knowing sorrow paints his eyes as they examine her face and note her exhaustion. “Do you think you should rest, maybe? I know the pregnancy has been a bit…tough on you.”

_Tough_. Arianna almost laughs bitterly, mirthlessly. _Tough was an understatement…but it was a statement, nonetheless. Statements…were good. Statements were acknowledgment. She…she didn’t have to be the prim, ever-composed queen right now. She was allowed to be tough and at the same time feel…how tough things truly were, for herself and her new child._

Instead, Arianna nods, humming softly as she watches Frederic leave the room.

She sits alone for what feels like hours, initially passing the time by leafing through the pages of her book before the now familiar ache in her abdomen and back grow too powerful to ignore. She sighs, setting the book down as she leans back and rubs her pregnant belly.

“You’re…you’re going to be a tough one, aren’t you?” Arianna chuckles softly, allowing carefully paced yet heavy breaths to escape at the exertion as she presses her palms into the edge of the sink to steady herself. She smiles, despite it all.

Could the child hear her? Could the child…be feeling what she felt? Her heart heavies and sings with the elated realization, and she chuckles. This child could be a source fo closeness and comfort for her that even Frederic couldn’t ever fulfill…this child could be the closest she would ever feel to not only being heard, but being truly understood and.…close. This child would never leave her alone, never make her feel alone. This child…was a part of her. They had been all along, and they would continue to be even after they were born.

“You’re going to do something wonderful. Something neither I nor your father ever could.” Arianna speaks softly, a bit absent-mindedly as she stirs the spoon carefully in her tea. She liked…hearing her voice fill the silence. She _liked_ …knowing she was not alone.

The sharp pain sears through her middle, resonating along her sides and up her spine. She grits her teeth tightly, the enamel nearly grinding it off, sucking in a sharp and startled breath, before forcing another chuckle. She…she wasn’t bothered. Why would she be bothered? These pains…these pains were a reminder. A reminder that she was not alone. That she would never be alone. That…that she was to be a mother. Once she…once she delivered this child, everything would be perfect. Once she…

Arianna gasps, again, nearly doubling over as her hand slams against the ceramic underbelly of the sink, fingers attempting to drill into it and direct the feeling of the slow, building pain simmering through her as her lips twitch.

Once…this prince…or princess…once this royal child was born, her worries would dissipate. She would no longer dread the quiet evenings at the balcony, watching subjects that would never truly be hers to govern or the sun set on a land that would never truly be hers to walk upon. She would no longer be…a decoration piece. She would have…a child. Someone to sit on the quiet swings in the royal courtyard with. Someone to watch longingly, rather than avert her eyes to the faint crinkles of her gown as the whispers of others around her faded in and out of the awkward silence that lapsed at their uneventful dinners. Leverage in the royal family. She…wouldn’t just be Frederic’s wife. She would be the mother of his heir. She would mother the future ruler of Corona. She…she wouldn’t worry about being alone. She would n-never…

As her thoughts become more discordant, unravelling and curling into distant wisps along every spike of fear and doubt pulsating through her, every painful attempt to stand amongst it drowning as she feels a dampness along the fabric of her dress, liquid quietly trickling down her leg as she wobbles and chuckles again, emptily and yet…hopefully. She slowly lifts her face so that her eyes clash with those of her reflection’s- pale face, skin gaunt and ashen against her cheekbones, jaw trembling, eyes rung with a deep, puffy pink as she quivers and tries making her way to the chair at her bedside. Not…not her bed. She did not need to dream of the future-it was right there, moments away from her reach, teasing intertwining with the tips of her fingers in thin tendrils of a present that just as well might be hers. No, she had to stay awake, fantasize about the swing she had yet to convince Frederic to build in the garden (the man was getting harder to keep track of nowadays), and the cakes she would have at her birthdays-

“Don’t you worry, little one.” Arianna chuckles again. “I didn’t forget you.” She rubs along her belly again, more firmly as though to cement to the being underneath the skin and layers that she was there, clutching tightly to its underside as though feeling herself cradling her child then and there. Her child wanted to be heard as much as she wanted to hear her. Her child wanted…wanted to be listened to and her mother was the only one who could, who could feel her every pulse right now and revel in the wonderful…painful way she thrashed, demanding to meet the one who … “You won’t lose me.” Arianna says quietly, blinking at the seemingly random admission that came out of nowhere.She looks around cautiously, quietly wondering if she perhaps was not in the best state of mind before shaking her head, sighing and smiling softly again despite the pain growing even greater, snaking up her chest.

This was…her child. Her baby. And she…she was queen regent. Frederic would pass-through the means that kings of the era did. He would…leave her, one day. Trembling, disheartened and looming over the brink, his hand would leave her own. But the child… She could live with her child for eternity, hold its hand and it…he…she would hold hers, until the very last breath. The child…they…her child would hold her mother’s face, wistfully brush her fingers alongside her tearstained cheek, and she would never fear another morning staring crippled and empty at the filled courtyards and filled skies and filled land, littered with people who she could never know and who would never know her, with a man who only knew her as much as she knew and she couldn’t know more and she didn’t want to- all she wants is this little one, constantly drilling against the insides of her abdomen, curled up within the folds of her warmth, grabbing and kicking to be let out and meet the mother so eager to meet him…them…her. Her child…was going to be her _everything_.

“If you think I’m going to be any less close to you then, as I am now, you’d be mistaken.” Arianna chuckles again, unfeeling of the tears slipping down her cheeks as her elbows bend and she leans forward shakily, expectantly. “I…can’t…wait for you…my love, my ch-child. Are you hurt?" She pats the taut skin. "I'm...hurting...too."

She-the girl, the ache, the spike, the _fire_ \- is setting her being alight.

“D-don’t…be like that… m-my little one…” Arianna tries to hoarsely whisper, in calm consolation even as she sinks slowly to her knees, the front of her dress drenched as the liquid pools at her feet, sinking through the skin. With every word, she feels another tear begin forming in her eyes, another spasm of pain growing in her belly, another deepened burrowing of emptiness aflame deep in her gut. “There's n-nothing you feel that I don't. You- _ugh_ -you're not...alone. I p-promise, you _won't_ -”

As soon as she finishes the words, she splutters, gasping for breath as though being relieved from a tight and hefty weight from her chest.

She does not ponder it before the man-the king-the husband appears at the door, and she slumps towards the floor just as his arms wrap around her shoulders, clutching tightly as his face, wrought with panic, appears spotted and blurred in front of her. She clutches him for dear life, not knowing what good that will do.

And yet, surrounded by the bustling nurses and concerned faces and the yelling, encased in the arms of her husband, Arianna screams alone.

…

Arianna lies alone on the bed and watches the ceiling, feeling every sensation glitch in between the seams of every deep, effortful breath.

The heavy, resonant weight of her heels, digging deeply and sharply against the fabric of the bedsheet.

A spike of agony, flaring up her back and violently wrenching, twisting the knot in her chest.

Slumped against her pillow, ailed and crippled, she does not think of the heavy words dripping from the nurse’s mouth, blaring in her mind’s eye as they seep into her ears and wither through her whirring mind.

Her husband’s face, coming into view, tilting her chin as a warm, sweet honey-like fluid is poured down her throat and the powerful magic coursed painfully throughout her being.

The world had coruscated into agonizing flashes of light as her body tore itself apart bringing a new life into the world. The cold darkness melting away into a haze of color and light, only to become clear to the image of her husband holding her child in front of her.

Despite all of the wonder and excitement that had come with the prospect of becoming a mother, Arianna had been sure that up until now, the child had been a distant notion. A frigid, searing ache in her abdomen on a sleepless night. A smile on Frederic’s face that she could finally share, a glorious future sealed for their future heir. A growing agony that wrought her to her knees, screaming in pain on that fateful night, when she was told she and her unborn child would die there, in the very bed she had laid on for countless nights and mornings dreaming of the distant, seemingly unattainable future that had been sowed into her mind every time she looked at the empty throne being built in between hers and Frederic’s, every time she quietly sat at the dining table and noticed the expectant gazes directed towards her.

And yet, now holding her pain and plights to fruition, Arianna does not see an heir. She did not see Frederic’s proud gleam or the nurses worrying behind her.

Arianna sees her _daughter_. She sees the smooth, pale, freckled skin, the flowing golden locks, the curled fists, the small snuffles and sounds stumbling experimentally from her mouth adoring and meant for her mother’s waiting arms and heart. That was a _child_ -a living, breathing being created of her own flesh and in her own image, yet with an entirely different heart, purpose, destiny. She had bore a child. She had made her, carried her, read to her, delivered her.

She-the ache, the wonder, the heir- is a _person_. One with small, dimpled hands, that would cling to her own, stretching and grabbing at her hair blindly. A small head, safely tucked against her breast. Small feet, round and pudgy as they rest and curl peacefully at the base of her palms. She had such warm skin, Arianna muses quietly, for a being so small and born in such a cold, unrelenting time of despair. Warm…glowing skin.

Frederic had wanted Rapunzel’s first sight to fall upon the image of the sun that hung over her cot-the very emblem of the kingdom entrusted to the future of this tiny soul. Not that Arianna minded-she was far content, as long as her eyes remained fixed on the months of fruition come to life. She watches, and gasps softly as the child opens her eyes to the new world.

Deep, emerald green eyes. _Her_ eyes.

She - the ache, the miracle, the _girl_ \- squirms in her cot, squealing and smiling and so perfect- _her girl was so perfect_. Unable to hold herself back any more, Arianna had allowed herself to carefully tread into view, too strongly compelled by the overwhelming gush of affection and adoration that charged through her despite the only slightly anxious realisation that this was to be her only child. This-what she was doing-could and would only happen once in her entire lifetime.

And then, in the most majestic moment, the baby squeals, her tiny arms invigorated with unparalleled joy and unbridled elation as her eyes gleam, blinding in contact to the soft light of the room. It is a high-pitched, chirping sound that strikes right through the woman’s chest, slithering through her being in solace and consolation, snatching away her next breath.

Her lovely green eyes lock on her own, imbuing the mother’s heart with utter delight as she draws her daughter closer to her face. Her daughter’s eyes moved cautiously with her own, fixated and intelligent and understanding as it accompanied the wide smile that graced her small face. Finally, a watery laugh-of relief, of joy, of gratitude-escapes the queen as she nuzzled her nose against her new daughter’s cheek-her daughter, _their_ daughter, _her beautiful child, Rapunzel_.

“My baby girl.” She whispers, the faint and hoarse rasp gentle as it weaves into the baby’s ears for the first time and elicits the girl to tilt her head upwards, cooing with interest.

Frederic’s eyes sparkle with a gentleness she had never truly noticed until now, gleaming with adoration and gentle pride as he carefully and lovingly places the crown on top of their daughter’s head. The apprehensive slant of her young and mistrustful eyes disappears, replaced once again with that joyous grin, a small yet cheerful giggle blustering forth beyond her new lips and blossoming in the mother’s heart.

For the twelve hours that Princess Rapunzel was with her parents as a baby, she did not cry, or whine, or squirm, except to feed. She always smiled-her eyes always held the light that extinguished the darkdays that marked Arianna’s mind, plagued her hope.

She - the face, the eyes, the girl - the one who would hold her hands, who she would push on the swing set, who she would lightly scold when she mischievously rolled out of bed on her own and then envelope in her arms, crush to her chest. She-the daughter of Queen Arianna and King Frederic. She-Princess Rapunzel of Corona.

Arianna smiles fondly, lovingly at the outline of her daughter quietly curled up in her crib, encased safely in the dim light of the room, refusing to tear her eyes away just yet. Her eyelids eventually begin to droop heavily, her mind still sluggishly pedaling ideas for what she and her new family were to do tomorrow. She would…she would maybe get around to that cake. Come to think of it…the princess did look better in purple…

And then…

Crying. Wailing. Shrieking.

_Her girl is crying._

The distressed sounds are jarring, jolts the mother awake with a start and she shoots straight up from where she had been drifting off into her first-and last- deep slumber.

And at that exact moment, the cloaked figure whip away into the distance with her child.

In the distance, slivering through her ringing ears and thundering heart, she can hear the galloping of palace horses, the faint yet horrifying sound of Frederic yelling at the top of his lungs to whomever would listen, the harsh rush of a frigid nightly breeze, spiraling and blustering in through the opened window like a slap to the face, the reality that taunted her with the slightest mischance of happiness and snatched that happiness away as she doubled over in its wake and wrought in the aftermath.

Arianna is left wide-eyed, staring blankly and uncomprehendingly into the darkness of the night.

The thought to move, the instinct to breathe is not enough. She stumbles, her legs moving erratically and rapidly on her own accord, the sting of the cold floor dissipating into her bare feet and the flaps of her nightgown swiveling around them. She is walking, she is running for the first time since she had found out she was pregnant, she is racing against time and past it all-

Past Frederic’s outstretched hands, past the surprised yelps and the horrified chatter and the panicked whispers and the coaxing, empty…empty, _empty_ consolations, to feed the empty, gaping hole in her chest that is excavating and gouging deeper into her being as every second without the warmth of the child in her arms, the warmth of the child against her chest, the warmth of the child that _had been inside her mere moments ago_ ….

Arianna is running, feeling more like herself than she has in a year and yet less of herself than she ever will in her life. She is running, unable to watch or see, until the exhaustion spiking up her legs heavies into full-fledged agony sizzling up her muscles and burning through her flesh, and she stumbles again, this time falling to her knees and crying out as she reaches the entrance to the palace, just barely having left the interior before having collapsed at the steps.

She gasps, wheezes as she tries desperately to suck in what she can, her unplanned and disheveled hair matted to the back of her neck, her teeth bared as she shakily reaches out an arm and tries wrapping it around the bars of the area atop the crevice-the area she had stood once, waving with practice to the crowd, standing beside her husband, with the promise of a future. The area where she had gazed out from for so many nights, whispering small consolations to the child she would bear…the child she would hold, of the wonderful things she was to show her, of the world that was to be _her Rapunzel’s_ ….

She stares out at the silent, unyielding, unresponsive blanket of the night, replacing her embrace and swathing the doubtlessly growing distance between her and her girl with the frigid reminder of a new, looming loneliness creeping up from the horizon and pooling around her crumbled form as she stares, unblinkingly, watching nothing. What could she watch, after all-the one who she had been determined to devote every second of her gaze to had just been…she was….

Arianna’s hands do not make it to his mouth in time when the first choked sob escapes, followed by the second, and then the third. She…she was not…going to lose her. The nausea raging deep in her gut wrenches itself up with every heave and splutter of indescribable pain, clawing away at her chest and bustling in her hollowed, shattered heart.

Her head hurts. _God_ , it hurts...her temple throbs with something distant and growing, and then everything is flashing, sizzling in and out of her field of vision as she is consumed with sheer, unrelenting terror and confusion. Her blood runs cold, her spine coruscating with those familiar flickers of thoughtless, directionless desperation...and she tries to open her mouth, breath caught in her throat and the musty, depressing, heavy air surrounding her, stifling her, _suffocating_ her as it clings to her every attempt to breathe erratically, wheezing…

_I…I did not lose her. I didn’t…_

She - the queen, the mother, the woman who lost her child after what had felt like a lifetime of waiting- grieves alone, curled up at the entrance as she desperately waits for her crippled legs and her defeated heart and her panicked mind to _get up, get up and go after them, you useless excuse of a mother_ , safely away from the warm interior, allowing herself to be engulfed but the familiar and longer fearful depression of a reality just waiting to crash upon her, drown her in endless sorrows.

Her husband is rushing past her, staring up at the empty space and yelling for more guards, more soldiers, more horses, more time. More time…that they had _lost_ …They had _lost_ …

All that seeps through Arianna’s mind now is the image of her daughter’s face, permanently burnt into her mind, with that wide smile stretching across her pale pink lips-a smile she was supposed to see _every day_.

Her daughter’s face, fraught with terror, morphed with agony and confusion as the strange figure looming over her jostled her away from familiar sleep, away from the familiar safety of her parent’s room, away from the familiar silk of her bedsheets. Her eyes, wide and expecting as she waited for her mother to sweep her out of the nightmare that had set her story into motion, wrangled her for good from any moment of true rest for years to come.

Arianna is frozen there, alone, etched in time as the world churns in a sickening, slow stupor around her, sluggish as it closes in on her, disallowing any semblance of warmth to slip through the cracks.

Gone was the daughter they had shared. Gone was the trust that they could ever share. Gone were the smiles they could have shared, the laughs they could have bore.

For Rapunzel had been a smiling one. She-the girl, the child, the lost princess. She was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that alright? Hopefully the next chapter won't take too long- it's mostly done and I'm editing currently.

**Author's Note:**

> Again...I can't say how sorry I am for leaving this for so long, but it feels good to finally get back into writing and staying on track, especially after all the horrible things that happened last year. I want to continue this story through and through, because it has become my "favorite work" (you could say, the work I spend the most time on) and I feel restless for not having posted for so long. I'll hopefully try to balance work/life better and (hopefully) give our boy some semblance of a story he deserves.
> 
> Mutterseelenallein is a German word pertaining to inexplicable loneliness and melancholy-it is actually not translatable in English but it describes a loneliness so severe, it is as though "your mother-soul has left you." It's also the only German title-the rest are in French and you'll eventually see why.
> 
> Again, don't worry-Varian's perspective will come up soon, and hopefully a lot of things will be cleared up. Forgive me for having taken so long! <3


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